Change comes on like this, elusive, subtle, a magician’s big act, like that, or so I imagine, today, something from out of nowhere in the middle of all I know by heart, suddenly when I least expect it, a chance to start again, a chance to let go, abandon what was, open up to what might be, reach out far enough, long enough, deep enough, connect no matter what happens after that, take a leap in a small place, and no matter how it might fall short or work for a day, a month, any amount of time at all, what I know now is the leap’s needed, it is imperative, saying yes, I forgot how difficult it is, no matter how simple it looks on paper when trying to hold steady in a life. I take the seeds out of the closet, what I’ve saved to plant for when a shortage arises, rare sunflower seeds, the pale yellow ones, sweet peas, violets, red kale, and in the back of the closet, a blouse the color of the sky, I don’t know why I put it away, stowed it for another day, kept the best hidden deep a stash of stuff in case of change.

But this time it is different, after the leap, wearing the blouse, the luminous moment, an easement in the trees around me and the blue of the sky and the subtle yellow from the petals coming around again one more time

Author Bio: I am an organic gardener, a teacher, a Syracuse University Graduate Writing Program fellowship holder and my writing has appeared in THE ADIRONDACK REVIEW, LITERAL LATTE, POETRY EAST, most recently in THE STONE CANOE, NINEPATCH, THE HAMPDEN SYDENEY POETRY REVIEW, PINYON, CITRN, this month in EVENING STREET REVIEW.